


Perfect

by fuzipenguin



Series: Kinktober 2018 [29]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Master/Slave, Other, Safeword Use, Twincest, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 05:51:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Sometimes hard limits are stumbled upon





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Day 29. Humilation

                “Kneel.”

                Sunstreaker immediately dropped, his knees landing on the decking with a dull thud. He raised his helm, optics fixed on Sideswipe’s face, searching for any further instruction. Sideswipe didn’t give him one, however. He just stood there, arms cross over his chest. His expression was displeased.

                Sunstreaker panicked a little inside because it had only been _one_ command. How had he managed to screw it up already?

                “Give me your hands,” Sideswipe instructed after nearly a minute of silence. “Palms up.”

                His wrists were grabbed before he could even turn his hands over, Sideswipe huffing impatiently. “You’re so slow. I expect you to move faster than this.”

                “Yes, sir,” Sunstreaker said quietly, ducking his head in submission. Then he rocked on his knees as Sideswipe cuffed him on the side of the helm, his cheek catching part of the blow.

                “I didn’t tell you to look away. This is why you never get anywhere in life - you don’t _listen_ ,” Sideswipe complained.

                “I’m sorry, sir. I will do whatever you tell me to,” Sunstreaker said earnestly, peering up at Sideswipe through lowered optic shutters.

                “You’ll try,” Sideswipe admitted. “You’ll also probably screw it up too. Somehow.”

                Sunstreaker’s lips thinned and a tremor ran through him. It wasn’t easy being a perfectionist. To look always look clean and scratch free, to draw with correct colors and scale, to disable or kill with just one blow. And this, the thing he wanted to be the most perfect in: obeying his master to the letter. It seemed like he just kept messing it up.  

                “Look at your hands!” Sideswipe exclaimed, squeezing Sunstreaker’s wrists painfully and bringing his attention back to the present. “They’re filthy! I told you to clean up before you got here.”

                He had also told Sunstreaker to be on time. If he hadn’t been punctual, he would have been punished.

                “I… I tried, sir. I didn’t want to be late after reporting in,” Sunstreaker explained, but Sideswipe just shook his head.

                “Useless. _Slow_. I don’t even know how I’ve survived this long with you watching my back,” Sideswipe snapped. Sunstreaker flinched as if he had been hit again and his optics involuntarily widened.

                “I…”

                “Anything I ask you to do, you’re going to do it slowly, aren’t you?” Sideswipe said, continuing on with a tone of despair. “You’re going to do it slowly, or just plain incorrectly. And you’re going to be filthy while doing it. You might as well not even _go_ to the washracks anymore as you can’t even clean up properly. _Intolerable._ ”

                Sideswipe moved back a step, looking down at Sunstreaker in disgust. Sunstreaker wavered in place, guilt weighing down his spark. It probably would get him hit again, but Sunstreaker couldn’t help crumpling down, pressing his lips to the tip of Sideswipe’s right pede.

                “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, sir,” Sunstreaker whispered, a sob catching in the back of his throat. “I know I’m a failure and disappoint you constantly. All I can do is try. Just give me another chance - I can please you… I _know_ I can.”

                He couldn’t. That was the whole point of this. But he would never stop trying.

                Sideswipe was silent as Sunstreaker trembled, awaiting a blow that didn’t come. A minute passed. Then another. Sunstreaker hesitantly opened his optics, looking left and right, but not daring to look up. That was probably what Sideswipe expected him to do and as soon as he did, Sideswipe would retaliate.

                Of course, Sideswipe should have retaliated when Sunstreaker looked away again.

                … what was Sunstreaker supposed to do? Indecision warred within him and he felt himself beginning to shake harder.

                After another minute, Sunstreaker felt the air currents shift and then Sideswipe’s hands landed on his shoulders. Sunstreaker flinched again, a whine building in the back of his throat.

                “No. I can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I’m safe wording,” Sideswipe murmured, his lips desperately pressed against the top of Sunstreaker’s helm.

                Sunstreaker abruptly stilled at the wretched tone of Sideswipe’s voice. He sounded… he sounded _horrible_ , like he had just been through a round of torture.

                “Sides…” Sunstreaker hurriedly pushed himself upright, Sideswipe’s hands falling away. He met his twin’s optics and felt physically sick at the distraught look on Sideswipe’s face.

                “I’m sorry… I thought I could… I just… I can’t, I’m sorry,” Sideswipe whispered, shaking his head. He looked… _ashamed_. Sunstreaker couldn’t even fathom it.

                He threw his arms around Sideswipe’s shoulders and clutched him close. “Shh… shhhh… don’t apologize. There’s _nothing_ to apologize for. There are things we’re each not comfortable doing and that’s fine. It’s _fine_.”

                Sunstreaker squeezed Sideswipe tightly, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of Sideswipe’s helm. If he hugged him tightly enough, maybe Sideswipe would believe Sunstreaker’s sincerity.

                “I know,” Sideswipe muttered into the side of Sunstreaker’s neck. “Doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad I can’t give you this.”

                “Maybe… maybe it was too much at once,” Sunstreaker suggested. “We’ll talk it over later. Just… let’s go to bed. Unless you really think I need to wash up again…”

                Sideswipe laughed weakly, but he still laughed. Drawing back, he wiped his hand across his optics and shook his head. “No, of course not. You’re a master and I’m still you’re lowly apprentice in the art of bathing... you’re right, though. Let’s go to bed. I really just want to cuddle the hell out of you right now. You know I don’t really think you’re slow, right?”

                Sunstreaker gently cupped his brother’s cheek and smiled at him ruefully. “I know that a race on a straight away, you’ll come out ahead, but only by a nose. It barely counts.”

                “It counts,” Sideswipe retorted, some of his confidence returning. Sunstreaker’s frame relaxed a little to hear it.

                Play like this didn’t always work well, or at all. Fortunately, they were both pretty adaptable and their sexual relationship was built on a foundation of life-long trust and love. They’d work through this like they worked through any other obstacle they’ve encountered.

 

~ End


End file.
